A Brief History Unbound
by Memory in Crimson
Summary: A collection of short stories concerning Space Pirate Bojack during times in his life before he became a bloodthirsty devil, worse than King Piccolo.
1. Just An Ogre's Son

**Preface**

I've decided to expand this from one short story to a collection of short stories centered around the titular villain from _Bojack Unbound_. The stories are heavy on world-building, particularly when I role-played as the bloodthirsty devil, whom was more evil than King Piccolo.

This story, "Just An Ogre's Son," expands on a short story I wrote for the role-playing blog, _SuperGalacticSoldier_.

* * *

"Just An Ogre's Son"

The boy had been minding his business by the tall, white _gol'ehi_. He had nestled with a book—one written on fighting, of course—beneath one of the older trees, which had begun to shed silver flower petals in anticipation of _uuram_.

Bojack had learned quickly in his young life that if he kept his nose out of other people's businesses, then they would leave him alone. At least, that was how the world was _supposed_ to work. If one does not provoke, then one should not _be provoked._

But a boy named Hackuj had grown into the cusp of adolescence, years that turned loving children into cruel beasts. To the mortification of the grown-ups at the sanctuary, Hackuj had begun to disregard the lessons on compassion that all children were taught. He felt that teasing other children gave him a sense of superiority, and no child's pain gave him more pride than Bojack Hogue's.

"Whatcha doin', ogre's son?"

Bojack flinched and frowned. He gazed up at the aquamarine child, whom was flanked by three other boys and a girl.

"Leave me alone, Hackuj," said Bojack, cracking the spine of his book. "My mom says I need to be alone for a while."

The child scoffed and paced behind him.

"Why'd'you even try t' hide it?" asked Hackuj as he looked at the book. "You're just gonna grow up to be like your dad. _Ogre._ "

Bojack leapt to his feet and scowled. He could not afford to dive into fisticuffs with this kid again, as much as the brat deserved a good beating. His mama depended on him being a good child, though, free from hateful actions.

But when he turned and began to walk away, the other children tightened the circle around him. They had every intention of getting Bojack—and subsequently his mother—into trouble.

"I'm asking you to let me go," he said.

" 'I'm asking you to let me go,' " Hackuj mocked with his tongue sticking out. " _Pfbt!_ Stupid ogre's son. You're gonna grow up to be like him, an' then everyone's gonna wanna beat you up, jus' like all the grown-ups wanna do."

Electricity danced on Bojack's hands, and his curly orange mane bristled. The lead child smiled, giving the rest permission to push him.

"You're just an ogre's son!" one of the boys shouted.

Bojack stiffened, whipped around, and shouted, "No! I'm not!"

Another boy shoved him, and he stumbled but did not fall. Then the girl pushed him, and his feet faltered worse. The children grinned like infernal imps, and they bumped into the little half-Heraa boy, one after the other. They skipped around him and pointed, chanting, " _Ogre's son! Ogre's son! Bojack is an ogre's son!_ "

Young Bojack trembled, his face wrinkling with suppressed rage. He was _not_ an ogre's son! He was not, he was not, _he was not_ —

 _"Hackuj_ _!"_

The children ceased their derision. They cowered before the approaching high priestess, her eyes flickering with fire.

"Mistress Yawrakai..."

The teal woman tilted her head and sneered. Another priest had arrived at the sound of her angry roar. He shook his head and tutted, well-aware of who had started this ordeal.

Seizing Bojack by one of his hands, Yawrakai dragged him from the center of the circle; and though he should not have feared her, his blood had gone cold at the fear of potential punishment.

"Brother Shinsetz," she commanded of the priest, "take these children to their parents, and let them know _exactly_ how they transgressed."

"Yes, High Priestess."

Yawrakai shot another fiery glare at Hackuj. That little fool had the ignorance to assume that only Bojack's father—loathsome beast that he indeed was—was the only of his parents capable of ferocity. But oh! The high priestess had a fire in her heart, like the core of their planet, and just as she was renowned for being kind, she could also inflict dread with a single glare.

This dread had filled Bojack's tiny heart, too, and as she pulled him beneath one of the pergolas near the temple, he was on the brink of tears.

"Mama!" he whimpered. "Please! I didn't do anything!"

Yawrakai sighed and stroked his hair. "I know, my _mih'likah_. I know."

Bojack sniffed and clung to his mother's sleeves. "Mama, I'm not an ogre's son. _I'm not!_ "

Then he clung to his mother's leg, which was hidden behind her robe, and he begged, "Mama, _please!_ ", as though if he begged her enough, she had the god-like power to make his wish come true.

But the moment her sad eyes met his, the boy knew that she was only mortal. She could not change who his father was. His nausea rose again, and he bit his bottom lip hard enough to screech.

"Oh, my Bo!" Tucking a sleeve over one of her hands, she knelt and dabbed his wounded lip. Mustering as much of a smile as she could, his mother cooed, "You _can't_ help who your father is. You just can't. I couldn't."

She paused, mulling over what would be appropriate to tell a boy of his age. "You already know I can't tell you much right now because you're still _much_ too young. But yes, dear heart, he is a _very_ mean man. But _you_ are a _very_ sweet boy. You're a very handsome, _well-behaved_ , little boy, and that's why you've never seen your papa. You don't need to. I want you to grow up to be _better_ than he is."

The little boy looked straight into his mother's eyes, looking for signs of lying. "Really?"

Yawrakai smiled. "Of course!" Then she hugged him and cooed, "Of course, my _mih'likah_. You're my _mih'likah_ , and you will never be an ogre to me."

* * *

 **Annotations:**

gol'ehi (Heraa speech) a species of tree resembling _Populus alba_

 _uuram_ (Heraa speech) resembles a rainy, cold autumn on earth

Yawrakai Hogue (Jp) _yawarakai_ "soft, tender" and _hogo_ "care, protection")

Hackuj (Jp) _hakujou_ "heartless, cruel"

Shinsetz (Jp) _shinsetsu_ "kindness, gentleness"

 _mih'likah_ (Heraa speech) "angel"


	2. Sneaking Around Restrictions

This short story was based off the prompt "A memory that gets your character's heart pounding"

* * *

"Sneaking Around Restrictions"

Bojack's father, the fearsome and dreadful Lord Kusats Kutai, had not celebrated his son's birthday as a young man should have (in Bojack's humble opinion) his birthday celebrated. A tournament had been held "in his honour" that day, and he was to fight the victor.

If he had lost, Bojack would have looked forward to a day of tortuous misery; for no son of Lord Kutai suffered humiliation unless he desired the bone-shattering wrath of his father.

Instead, he had prevailed, and Lord Kutai had dismissed him after the sun had set to read musty tomes with crinkled pages, each gushing about the most violent but successful demagogues of their home planet's history. Bojack watched the sun creep further down and down _and down_ , and he listened carefully for his father's keen-eared soldiers, whom patrolled the property.

Bojack huffed and set aside a dreadful volume about one of his ancestors. He stepped upon the balcony, eyeing the open theatre of upturned boulders, broken concrete, and infertile dirt. He hopped to the ground, turned behind himself, and turned to scan the theatre. He ducked swiftly behind boulder after boulder, waiting for the longest time as chattering guards spoke of defiling servant women and of their anticipation for midnight, when Lord Kutai would let them drink and rumble and dance in celebration at the ogre's having fathered many, many offspring, not only Bojack.

Bojack rolled his eyes and held his breath. They would have no ale to gulp and no servants to violently swive when he was finally their leader. But for the moment, he needed to not catch their attention.

Rushing to the forbidding rampart, Bojack sank his fingers into the stone and climbed like the reptilian caprids on the frozen heights Heisei Mountain. He paused when he heard four soldiers goose-step above him, and as he reached the top, he cringed as he felt his phone vibrate in his vest pocket. Two of the men stopped. Bojack ducked onto the other side of the rampart, and the soldiers asked their comrades if they had heard that buzzing.

"Faintly," they had said, and they fanned across the rampart as Bojack climbed carefully to the bottom and dashed behind a tree metres away.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he glanced at the caller.

 _Bido_ , he thought, and rather than call back, he typed a reply: _Dark but still dangerous. On my way_.

Then Bojack dashed to the boulevard that was another five metres from the border of trees, and he ducked into one of the little restaurants, which reeked of boils vegetables and strong, overused spices.

 _"Ah!"_

The older adolescent's heart jumped when Bido's meaty hand wrapped around his shoulder. Bojack smiled, his nervous laughter a bridge to tears if Bido and two of his friends had not hugged him first.

" _You made it!_ " the portlier friend, a young gent with a goatee, Narazum, whispered excitedly.

"Hail, hail, champ!" quietly exclaimed a lanky chap, Odoshi.

Bojack smiled at each of his friends; for, yes, the violent nobleman's son had friends beyond Bido. Bido had actually been the one to introduce Bojack to these ruffians—not impoverished but barely middle-class, still strong and disciplined warriors, though they shared none of his privileges.

"You ready for a _legit_ good birthday party, kiddo?" asked Bido.

"Oh, hoho! You have no idea," Bojack sighed.

"Come on, then!" chirped Narazum. "Zaina's mom and Bi's mom're finishin' up the appetizers, and you know that we told 'em make your favourite."

"You're all too much!" exclaimed Bojack, and the young men hurried through the night to celebrate Bojack's birthday in a way much more exciting and festive and becoming of his wild spirit.

* * *

 **Annotations:**

 _Kusats Kutai_ (Jp) _gyuksatsu_ "massacre, slaughter" and _gyukutai_ "abuse."

 _Narazum_ (Jp) _narazumono_ "rascal"

 _Odoshi_ (Jp) "menace"


	3. O Loyal Vassal!

This short story is part of my world-building while I role-played Bojack under the user name _SuperGalacticSoldier_. It explores the thoughts of an adolescent Bojack and his relationship with one of his future commanders, Bido.

* * *

"O, Loyal Vassal!"

When Bojack's father had died, the young warrior had shed no tears.

Instead, he had collapsed in total exhaustion, his vision blurring, sounds fading while Bido had shouted in the distance. His bleeding had not compared to the other times his father had crushed his bones and punctured an organ or nearly maimed him. But he had been certain that his leg was not supposed to gush like that, and his blood should have trickled from his head, not _inundated_ his eyes and blinded him.

His body had gone from pulsing pain to the frightening numbness that preceded death. By the gods, he had been certain that he would perish that day.

Bido had refused to let him die. The young nobleman's wounds had not been as grotesque as they felt to the victim; regardless, Bido had ensured that the most severe cuts were tied with bandages of ripped clothing until proper doctors stitched and bandaged them. He had carefully slung the young warrior upon his back and flew swiftly to get him aid.

A sleepless night and a morning riddled with worry had given way to a recovered Bojack.

As word spread of the demise of Bojack's dreaded father, most citizens also failed to wail and grieve for the ogre. Many sighed with relief that Lord Kusats Kutai, the most violent member of the brutal House of Kutai, had been slain. Impromptu celebrations commenced in the hours and days proceeding, and families of the victims of his terror planned to defile his grave as soon as its location was disclosed.

* * *

"I want him cremated," said Bojack after sipping a bitter brew that had been served to him. "Have his ashes scattered where no one can ever find him. Neither those who hated him nor the fools who admired him."

"I'll get ol' Kyouhack on that right away," said Bido as he pulled his phone from his jacket's pocket.

As the young warrior's friend chattered with the counselor, Bojack gazed wearily at him. Bido was no serf bound to his family's estate, and Kusats had never hired him. He had _barely_ tolerated the outgoing young man, which had been a miracle; for even Bojack had found connecting with his own father a Sisyphean task.

His mother had fled from the estate years ago (to that day, he still did not know if he were the result of a genuinely tender one night stand or something coerced and traumatizing), and she had warned him never to seek his father.

"He's hurt his children born in marriage," she had said. "Those who haven't died have been disowned, and they prefer it that way or... or he has gone after them. I don't want him to _ever_ hurt you."

Bojack had been a wilful child, though, and at ten years young had ventured to find Kusats. He had not been welcomed warmly, but the vicious ogre took pleasure in bringing the "bold brat" into his house to coddle in one moment and then brutally train for battle in the next moment.

The young man was amazed that Lord Kutai had not killed Bido when they had first crossed paths, but perhaps he had initially found the light-hearted jester too stupid to waste a fatal energy blast upon.

Bido had known, though, that Bojack probably would not have survived without some contact beyond the constant spirit-shattering abuse. He had visited him often and sneaked him beyond the tall, forbidding walls to common folk, common drinks, and common laughter. He had helped Bojack share flat bread and malty drinks with ruffians, whom had wielded fearsome fighting skills but were warm and inviting.

Honestly, Bojack appreciated the discipline that he had learned from his father, but Bido's world validated his desire for camaraderie.

Bojack groaned. His drink slipped into his lap, and he cursed as his vision blurred as though an icy storm blinded only him. A strong hand clamped around one of his, and he felt Bido stroke his forehead.

"Bo! _Bo!_ "

One sentence began to dash through his mind again and again before his throat and tongue gained the strength to speak it:

"I never want to be this weak again. I never want to be this... frail, _pathetic_ thing, dependent on others to be kind, if they so _choose_ to be kind—"

"Oh! Come on, Bo, you know that's bullshit," said Bido. "I mean, damn! You've done what most ain't ever done in their lives—survived an attack, and a damned nasty one, too, from the old Ogre Kusats Kutai himself. Shouldn't be beatin' yerself up—th' ole devil done enough of that before ya whooped 'im."

Bojack heaved a sigh.

"I don't even know if I truly wanted to kill him, but... but he gave me no other choice." Then he sneered. "That asshole... he backed me into a damned corner."

"Shit, man!" Bido released his grip and sat back in his chair. He chuckled and marked, "That technique you been workin' on actually worked! I didn't think throwin' two blasts like that was a smart idea, but _wham!_ You seared and maimed that proud ol' son of a bitch like it was one focused blast."

"I what?" As soon as Bojack sat, Bido laid him back down before he fainted again. "It actually worked?"

"Hell yes, and thank the Gods it did," said Bido. "I don't even know if there is much of yer old man left to cremate, to tell you th' truth. Kyouhack was checkin' on him while I was checkin' on you. When yer old man tried to block that attack... _nn!_ I do _not_ want to be on the receivin' end next time you use it."

So, the experiment had worked... and at a miraculously moment.

His father had smashed him into a sandstone hill and opened the two scars that he had carved on his face months ago. As Bojack had gathered the last of his strength, Kusats had prepared his own signature move—a technique that blew open an opponent's belly and left them dying in indescribable anguish. Bojack could not have afforded to not attempt the new technique. Lord Kutai had intended to kill him after discovering that his son had more than disappointed him.

 _"You disgusting abomination!" his father had snarled. "If I had known—if I could have foreseen it, I would have tore you straight out of your mother's womb and smashed you! You_ filth! _"_

Through the pulsing pain in his head and spine, through his bloodied vision and fading hearing, Bojack had summoned his energy into a ball and split it into both hands. He had imbued them with some of his psychic energy, infusing them with what his will desired for them to do; and as Kusats had charged, Bojack had unleashed his technique.

 _No more monster_ , he thought. _No more worrying what he might do to..._

"I _couldn't_ let him live," said Bojack suddenly. "He promised he would..."

"He would what?"

The young man glanced at his friend. Bido flinched at the sight of him frowning _sadly_.

Bo frowned when he was frustrated or embarrassed. He frowned when he was in _physical_ pain, but he never frowned because he was _sad_. What in the hell had the old Ogre done to his son?

"He found out about me... and you," said Bojack.

"So? The old arse knew we hung out together. What the hell d'ya mea—oh. _Ohhh..._ "

Bido slumped in his chair. The old man had found out they were a little more than friends.

It had not been as though they were dating or anything. They were still _just_ friends. Their relationship happened to have flexible boundaries. And besides, Bido knew Bojack had a thing for the ladies. Bo's sexuality was just flexible sometimes. Bojack was a flexible guy... in more way than one.

"Well, shit. Shit, shit, _shit!_ " Bido ran a hand through his hair. Lord Kutai had been all about gents being with ladies, and that was it. A gent could sleep with as many ladies as he wanted, but not the other way around, and the Gods forbid a gent find other gents attractive! It was "not natural" and not the Kutai way. Most other Bokanians did not care about which adult slept with which adult, but the House of Kutai (among a few other weirdo Houses and cults) had _very_ questionable ideas about what constituted a relationship. And Bojack's father? He was _damned_ strict about their traditions!

"Man! If I'd'ave known, I would've—"

"There was nothing you could do!" exclaimed Bojack, and he sat slouched in his bed. "My father threatened to kill you and every member of your family. He accused you of corrupting me before accusing _me_ of being a filthy abomination from the start... and then he threatened to kill _me_."

The vivacity in Bido's eyes faded, and he leaned forward, face upon his mouth, deep in thought.

"You nearly died..." he said. "... all because you were trying to _save me?_ "

"He was headed to your home after threatening me with a _severe_ punishment. I wasn't going to let him kill you. You've treated me with more respect and shown me greater loyalty than the serfs of our estate. I knew I wasn't going to find anyone else like you. You... You mean too much to me."

Bido's breathing became shallower. He drew himself closer to Bojack's side, leaning upon the mattress. The young nobleman smiled and slipped a hand atop his. Then Bido chuckled low and disbelievingly.

"Hell, man, you ain't weak at all," sighed Bido. "Shit... and even if you weren't the strongest son of a bitch on the planet, you got more strength in your spirit than the army's combat strength.

"You've done something that never even crossed my mind because... well, I'd never thought I'd need protection. I know a lotta people warned me about bein' friends with you, but... I'm glad you do find sumpin' in me you like that's worth fightin' for... 'cause like I said, I refuse to be on the receiving end of _that_ attack."

Bojack laughed and jerked, rubbing his sore ribs. He could no more dream of hurting Bido than he could dream of smashing his right hand. Bido was more loyal than a pack of hunting hounds, sharper of wit than he looked, and respected any boundaries that Bojack set between them. Though the nobleman would reign above him, Bido would be the authority beneath him in the days to come, and he would accept no lower rank for the man that had kept him sane for years and for whom he had nearly died.

* * *

 **Annotations:**

Kyouhack (Jp) from _kyouhaku suru_ "to menace, threaten."

 _"I didn't think throwin' two blasts like that was a smart idea, but_ wham! _You seared and maimed that proud ol' son of a bitch like it was one focused blast."_ (attack) Bido describing the Galactic Buster, Bojack's finishing move.

 _Bokanians_ (Jp) from _boukan_ "thug, ruffian." While Bojack in an ethnic Heraan, he shares a planet with numerous others ethnicities, planet Bokania.


	4. Worry Makes One Weak

This prompt for this story involved sending in one word or multiple words, and shaping a tale around it or them; in this case, I received, "Broken, shatter, shadows, sin, steal, mysterious, alone."

* * *

"Worry Makes One Weak"

Bojack rolled the golden cone between a thumb and an index finger, eyeing its sinister glimmer. This thing, this tiny jewel and its companions—that is, how-ever many more the excavation team could dig up—had done _precisely_ what legend had whispered of. The boost in power from this lone one had been amazing, almost frighteningly so. It was precisely the type of power the warrior nobleman had dreamed of ever since he had nearly died.

"I never want to be this weak again," he had told Bido in their youth. "I never want to be this... frail, _pathetic_ thing, dependent on others to be kind, if they so _choose_ to be kind—"

"Never," he whispered as his study door creaked open.

Bojack turned and heaved a gnarled sigh. The woman had the same eyes with low lids and azure irises. Her ears had the same lean shape as his. If anyone alien to their planet had walked in, they would be forgiven for mistaken her as his sister. After all, Bokanians aged slowly once they reached a particular age. It was as though the clock stopped for a decades and decades, so that one's parents could have been mistaken for one's siblings or cousins by off-worlders.

"May I talk to you?" asked Bojack's mother.

Bojack sighed and waved a reluctant hand.

Yawrakai had tended to him when he had been a babe and a naive child, but his adolescence, his introduction into manhood, had been under his father's ruthless instruction. That man had had more of an impact on him in six _yon_ than his mother had all his early life.

Yet there she stood, head hanging low with humility. When she gazed timidly at him, he knew she saw his father, even though Bojack had never raised a hand to her… and _never_ would. He had promised himself that. Everyone else deserved to fear him, but not her. She was beyond his growing desire for fear and power.

"I'm worried about you," she said, eliciting a groan. "I know! You hate to hear anyone say it."

"Especially you."

His mother's chest puffed in frustration. He loved her, but he was not above doling acerbic remarks.

As she seized the chair across from his, she hissed, "I'm _scared_ , Bojack, scared for you. At first, I had no faith in you finding the _Daraku_. Everyone else has tried and only found those fake replicas. But now… _now_?"

"Mother, what are you scared of?" he snarled. "That your 'little boy' has the ability to defend himself? Or be aggressive, if he's so wont?"

"That's my point! You've already proven that these… these _things_ are not myth. And you proved that part of the legend regarding them is true. So, what about the _rest_ of the legend?"

Bojack sneered and turned back to his examining desk.

" _Mih'likah_ , please—"

He glared at her when she placed a hand upon his. Just because they were blood did not give her any right to lay a hand on him! No matter how harmless her touch!

Yawrakai recoiled and folded her hands upon her lap. She cringed further as she spoke:

"There are parts of yourself that I _know_ you keep locked away. If the legends are true, then if you use the _Daraku_ , you're putting yourself at risk for that... for the side-effects, like a man who takes the most potent, the most _dangerous_ drugs."

" _Pfeh!_ "

"You scoff, but look at what you've already accomplished. You _found_ them. _You_ found _them_ , and you've tested them, and by the Gods!" she profaned, stunning to him (she seemed such the devoted high priestess). "By the Gods of Creation, they give you precisely the strength you desire."

Then her azure eyes darkened, like the ominous sea, and she smiled wildly as she hissed, "But what about the _rest_ of it, _mih'likah_? What about the rest? Do you want that? Can you _own_ that? _Own_ what they'll turn you into?"

 _You mean, into my father?_ he wanted to say, but he spared her.

Bojack knew he could control himself. He had enough self-control that if that part of the _Daraku_ legends held a smidgen of truth, he could _totally_ handle himself. He wouldn't be transformed into some bloodthirsty maniac! He would be calculating, careful; he _could_ control his destructive side. Bojack wanted to be feared and never fear assassination like his father had, and on top of that, he had a noble cause. His people, _their_ people, would earn respect, no longer ridiculed as wantons and drunkards and whores with pretty faces and _no souls_.

"Mother, I know you're supposed to worry about me. That's what mothers do. But this… experiment could yield benefits. And if I make _myself_ the lab rat, rather than some poor Tranquilites from the Heisei province, then I don't have some Bokanian rights watchdogs barking at my gates."

His mother frowned and averted her gaze. Then he placed a hand upon her cheek and said, "If it somehow _does_ get out of hand, tell me. Or tell _Bido_. You know I'll listen to him when not even Kyouhack can reason with me."

She smiled softly and nodded in agreement.

"I'll let him know... _mih'likah_ ," she said.

Then Bojack kissed her cheek and exchanged some frivolities. Finally, she slipped out, likely to walk the labyrinth in the garden before retiring to bed.

Bojack sighed. As he gazed upon the metal jewel, his head thrummed again. Though he could not say that he loved his mother any more, he did not hate her. He absolutely never wanted her to compare him to his father. He wanted her memories of himself to be more pleasant, to be of that mild-mannered son whom had begged her to come live with him after his father had finally met his fate, and finally after numerous invitations—

But this project meant so much to him. More than even his mother's life.

She needed to die. Yawrakai couldn't live, couldn't interfere with him any longer, no matter how small. But Bojack couldn't be her murderer, couldn't know it was him, anyway. He knew of quick and moderately painless methods of execution. Yes, the beautiful creature would die a peaceful death, one in her sleep, one with almost no pain, and one where her final memories of Bojack were not riddled with comparisons to his vile father.


End file.
